


Mixed Emotions

by MimiWritesHerFandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Author Bucky Barnes, Grumpy Bucky Barnes, Light Angst, Multi, Police Officer Steve Rogers, alternate universe - author
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 09:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiWritesHerFandoms/pseuds/MimiWritesHerFandoms
Summary: You get a job working for one of the country’s most prolific authors.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Comments: 80
Kudos: 139





	1. A New Job

You stopped in front of the Eagle Warehouse and Storage Company and stared up at the clock above your head. You couldn’t believe that people actually lived here. But what was more astounding was that you were going to be working for someone who lived here. And that person was James Buchanan Barnes, one of the most famous - or infamous - authors in the world.

You had literally stumbled into this job, thanks to your best friend, Wanda. She worked for Barnes’s publishing company and when she’d found out that he was in need of an assistant, she had called you. You’d jumped at the chance. Since graduating with your master’s degree in creative writing, you’d been bouncing from job to job - teaching at a local community college, writing articles for an online blog about dogs, temping as a secretary all over New York, and sporadically working on your novel. You were barely making ends meet. The chance to work with a bestselling author was too good to pass up.

“May I help you, ma’am?” the doorman asked.

“Um, yes, I’m, uh, here to see Mr. Barnes?” It was more of a question than a statement and you immediately wanted to kick yourself. You needed to be more assertive if you were going to work with James Buchanan Barnes.

The doorman opened the door and asked you to wait while he called Mr. Barnes. You adjusted the bag on your shoulder and tried to think positive thoughts. You were nervous as hell. But who wouldn’t be nervous? Barnes was not only a bestselling author, but three of his books had been adapted into movies, and the books featuring his most popular character had been adapted into a highly anticipated series about to release on Netflix.

Not to mention, he was one of New York’s most eligible bachelors.

“You can go up, ma’am,” the doorman said.

“Thank you,” you nodded.

A few minutes later you were standing in front of Barnes’s apartment door. You pressed the doorbell and waited.

“Come in, door’s open.”

You stepped inside, your jaw falling open. You’d never seen anything like this; Barnes’s apartment was unbelievable. Literally a showpiece. It was bright and colorful, the most beautiful place you’d ever seen.

Directly in front of you was a small, narrow kitchen and to your left was a large, sunlit living room. You glanced to your right, jumping when you noticed your new boss standing there with a smirk on his face.

“Hey,” he said.

“H-hi,” you smiled shyly. He was so damn attractive he was almost hard to look at.

“You must be my new assistant,” he said.

“I am,” you nodded. “My name is Y/N -”

“And I’m Bucky,” he interrupted. “Let me show you around.”

“Bucky?”

“It’s short for Buchanan,” he said. “And just FYI, that’s not something I run around sharing with everyone. But you’re my assistant and you’re bound to hear someone call me by my nickname. I’d appreciate it if you didn’t divulge that to anyone.”

“I signed a confidentiality agreement,” you explained.

“All my assistants do,” Bucky nodded. “Now, is it alright if I show you around? I’m about to head out for breakfast, I’ve got work to do, and I’ve got an interview in…” He looked at his watch. “Four hours.”

“Of course,” you nodded.

“This won’t take long,” he said.

You followed him as he spun on his heel and headed back the way he’d come from. “This is my bedroom slash office,” he said. He pointed to a couple of closed doors. “Those closets hold research materials, as well as the concordances for my books, in particular the ones that are a series. You’ll get to know those pretty well. If you get a chance, you can take some time today to go through them, figure out where everything is.”

Across the room from the bed were a desk and a simple office chair, along with a laptop. “That’s my desk, obviously. I usually get up early, go for a run, then coffee, then I write for a few hours. Other stuff - interviews, appointments, whatever, those get pushed to afternoons. You’ll be in charge of my calendar. I’ll give you access. Any questions?”

You shook your head. “No, not yet.”

“Great.” He turned and walked from the room, gesturing for you to follow him. In the meticulously decorated living room was a huge clock window with an astounding view.

“This place is amazing,” you murmured.

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool,” he shrugged. He pointed to a long dining room table. “This can be your base of operations. You can set up here Monday through Friday. All I ask is that you clean up your space on Friday afternoons.”

“I can do that,” you said.

Bucky picked up a stack of files from the end of the table. “Start here,” he instructed. “These are my notes on the latest book, the edits I’m working on, information about the upcoming book launch, appointment reminders, a bunch of stuff. I cleaned off my desk and shoved everything in these files. My former assistant lasted about two weeks and made a mess of things. Your job today is to see if you can get this stuff organized.”

You heard the front door open and close. “Bucky?”

“In here,” Bucky yelled. “That’s Steve.”

“Steve Rogers?”

“I take it you’ve heard of him?” Bucky sighed.

The blond god known as Steve Rogers entered the room. He was the inspiration behind all of Bucky’s books; the main character, Shaun Roberts, was based on Bucky’s childhood best friend. From what you had read and seen on television, he was a New York police detective, rising rapidly through the ranks of the police force, becoming a detective at a very young age. He was supposedly fair and honest, to a fault according to some. He made for an intimidating presence. He was a celebrity in his own right.

And to no one’s surprise, he was also one of New York’s most eligible bachelors.

“Hello,” Steve said politely.

“Steve, this is my new assistant, Y/N. This giant lunkhead is my best friend Steve.”

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Steve said, holding out his hand. His smile lit up the entire room.

“Hi,” you murmured, shaking his proffered hand.

“You ready, Buck?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” Bucky replied. “You good, Y/N? Steve and I are heading out for breakfast. I should be back in an hour.”

“I-I think so,” you nodded.

“Great, see you later.”

And with that, he was gone, the apartment door slamming closed behind him.

* * *

“So, you made it past the two-month mark,” Wanda said.

“Thankfully,” you sighed. “I wasn’t so sure.” You tucked your phone between your head and shoulder and dug through your purse for your wallet to pay for the two coffees. “Buck...I mean James is...interesting to say the least.”

“You can say it,” Wanda laughed. “James is a handful. He goes through assistants like I go through margaritas on Saturday nights.”

You burst out laughing. Wanda always had a knack for making you feel better. Her quirky sense of humor and her endless optimism managed to give you a boost when you were feeling down.

The first couple of weeks you’d worked for Bucky had been tough. He was far more demanding than you’d anticipated, picky to the point of being annoying, grumpy, and honestly, kind of rude. You’d powered through, doing your best to not let him get under your skin, though it wasn’t easy. If it hadn’t been for Steve - who always seemed to be around - you would have lost your mind  _ and _ your job. Steve seemed to have a calming effect on Bucky. Lucky for you. By the end of your first two weeks, Bucky seemed to warm up to you and suddenly, your life became a lot easier. Three weeks in, Bucky had stopped finding reasons to criticize you. Now, two months after going to work for him, you thought he might actually like you.

Bucky’s change in demeanor toward you had unforeseen consequences. Over the last couple of weeks, you’d found yourself growing increasingly attracted to your boss. There was something about the moody author that tugged at your heartstrings. It didn’t hurt that he was attractive either. You did your best to push those feelings aside and remain professional. Of course, Bucky being nicer to you hadn’t helped. It had been easier to pretend the attraction wasn’t there when he was being a jerk.

“Good morning, George,” you said, easing past the doorman into the building.

“G’ morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” he said. “Mr. Barnes went out for a run, said he’ll be back in about thirty minutes.”

“Thanks, George,” you sighed. Leave it to Bucky to not tell you he was going out; if you’d known that you wouldn’t have gotten him coffee.

You let yourself into the apartment, juggling your bag and the coffee, nearly dropping your keys in the hall before getting inside and pushing the door closed with your foot. You made your way to the dining room table where all of your stuff was set up, except for your laptop, which was in your bag. You dropped it on the chair and set the coffee on the table.

“Hey, Y/N.”

You let out an obnoxious squeak and spun around. Steve was leaning against the wall, smiling at you.

“Hi, Steve,” you breathed. “What are you doing here?”

“Waiting for Buck,” he shrugged. “I heard you come in.”

“Where were you?”

“In the kitchen, looking for coffee. You walked right by me.”

“Bucky doesn’t have any coffee,” you said, pointing at the cups on the table. “I bought some.”

Steve snatched one of the cups off the table and popped off the lid. He took a drink and smiled at you.

“That was Bucky’s coffee,” you mumbled. “He’s gonna be pissed.”

“He’ll get over it,” Steve chuckled, taking another drink from the cup.

“Don’t you have a job?” you muttered, yanking your laptop from the bag and setting it on the table.

“I’m on call,” he explained.

“Seems like you’re always on call. And you’re always here.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N, am I bothering you?”

“No,” you sighed. “It’s just...Bucky gets grumpy when he doesn’t get his coffee.”

“I’ll take him out to eat,” Steve said. “I promise I won’t let him yell at you.”

“Speaking of which -” You glanced at Steve through your lashes. “Thank you for helping me get through the last couple of months. I’m not sure I could have done it without you.”

Steve edged closer, the smile on his face growing wider. “Happy to help. If anybody knows that James Buchanan Barnes is difficult to deal with, it’s me.”

“Please don’t tell him that I think he’s difficult,” you murmured. “Please?”

“I won’t,” Steve laughed. “I know he’s a handful, but it’s because he takes his work very seriously. He’s not so bad once you really get to know him.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you grinned. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a lot of work to do to get ready for the release party next week.”

Bucky’s newest book,  _ A Murder in Manhattan _ , was set to release in a little over a week. You were still hammering out the details of the release party. You needed everything to be perfect. Bucky insisted on it.

“Are you going?” Steve asked.

“To the party?”

“Yes, Y/N, the party,” he nodded.

“I mean...I’ll be there,” you said. “But strictly in a work capacity, you know, checking on the caterers, dealing with the press, basically making sure everything runs smoothly.”

“You bringing a date?”

You didn’t get a chance to answer because the front door opened and Bucky and Natasha, his agent, came in. Natasha headed straight for Steve, pushed up on her toes, and pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek, then she whispered something in his ear. Whatever it was, it brought a smile to his face.

“Y/N,” she said coolly. “How is the party planning going?”

“Great, Ms. Romanoff, just great.” You forced a smile on your face.

“She’s got this,” Bucky interjected. “She’s the best assistant I ever had.” He glanced down your coffee cup on the table. “Who forgot to bring me coffee.” He glared at you, but you could see a smile dancing at the corners of his lips.

“That’s on me,” Steve said, stepping in front of you. “I stole your cup.” He wiggled the now empty cup in Bucky’s face.

“Punk,” Bucky muttered.

“Jerk,” Steve retorted. “Go change, I’ll take you out to breakfast to make up for it.”

“I’ll tag along,” Natasha added. She slipped her arm through Steve’s and smiled up at him. For some reason, your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

You ignored whatever the hell it was, dropped into the chair, and opened your laptop. You really did have a ton of work to do. The party wouldn’t plan itself.

You immersed yourself in your work, ignoring Steve and Natasha talking on the other side of the room. Ten minutes later, Bucky came out of his bedroom dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Jesus, he looked good.

“Let’s go,” he said, gesturing to the couple sitting way too close to each other on the couch. “I’m starving.”

“You should come with us, Y/N,” Steve said.

“She has work to do,” Bucky replied.

“I have work to do,” you said at the same time as your boss. 

Steve punched his best friend on the shoulder. “You’re a slave driver, Buck.”

Bucky gave him a look you couldn’t quite interpret, then without another word, the three of them left.

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and scrubbed a hand over your face. You weren’t sure what had just happened, but you had a feeling you were attracted to Steve. How was that even possible? You liked Bucky.

Right?

Of course, you shouldn’t be surprised you found yourself drawn to Steve. He was attractive, funny, smart, and an all-around good person. He’d stepped in and kept your boss from wringing your neck on several occasions. He had a calming presence that somehow seemed to keep Bucky in line. 

The two men were polar opposites. How was it possible to be attracted to both of them?

You rested your forehead on the cool mahogany table. How did you manage to get yourself into these situations? Attracted to two men, two best friends nonetheless. You were going to have to work extra hard to be professional. You couldn’t afford to lose this job. You needed it too much to screw it up. You’d just have to pretend that you weren’t interested in either of them and throw yourself into your work. It was probably the only way you were going to survive the madness you called your life.

***You can see Bucky’s apartment [here](https://www.facebook.com/ForTheLoveOfOldHouses/posts/2745683035697732).


	2. Confusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day of the release party arrives. Things get very interesting and very confusing.

“This place looks amazing!” Wanda exclaimed.

You shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Really? It’s not too...I don’t know...over the top?”

“I think it looks great, Fury thinks it looks great, even Natasha thinks you did a great job. Stop worrying.”

“I’ll stop worrying when James tells me what he thinks,” you mumbled. “His opinion is the only one that matters.”

“Speaking of James, where is he?” Wanda asked.

“He and Steve are checking things out, talking to the bartender and the caterers I think,” you shrugged. “Probably looking for a reason to fire me.”

Wanda punched you lightly on the shoulder. “Stop that,” she scolded. “He’s not going to fire you.”

“Says you,” you mumbled. “Speak of the devil…” Bucky was walking your way, a scowl on his face.

“Y/N!” he yelled.

You leaned over and whispered, “Told you” in Wanda’s ear, then you plastered a smile on your face.

“I’m out of here,” she muttered. “I’ll see you later. Have fun.” She spun on her heels and practically sprinted out of the room.

You cleared your throat and turned to your boss. “Yes, Mr. Barnes. What can I do for you?”

“Change the centerpieces,” he ordered.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“At least change the colors, take out the pink and orange flowers,” Bucky said. “I don’t like them.”

You opened your phone and made a quick note. “Got it, no pink and orange flowers. Anything else?”

“I’m still looking,” he muttered before wandering off again.

You sighed and shook your head. Thank God you hadn’t confirmed anything yet. You’d had a feeling that Bucky would want something changed and you hadn’t been wrong. Once he was done scrutinizing everything and you got out of here, then you would make your phone calls, confirming everything with the changes.

“He’s always like this,” Steve said quietly. “Before a release party, I mean. He was so crazy before the last one that his assistant at the time actually quit two days before the party. You’re not going to quit, are you?”

“Not yet,” you smiled.

Steve looked at his watch. “Look, I have to go, but before I do, I’m going to ask you again if you have a date for this shindig? You know, since I didn’t get an answer the last time I asked.”

“I don’t,” you replied. “I’ll be working.”

“Be my date,” Steve grinned. “We both have to be here, we might as well come together.” He crossed his arms over his chest and smirked. You kind of wanted to punch him and maybe you would have if he hadn’t been so damn endearing.

“Steve...” The thing was, you wanted to say yes, desperately wanted to tell him that you would love to go as his date. But with all that you had to do the night of the party, there was no way you’d have time for a date. You took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I would love to go as your date, but -”

“There’s always a but,” he sighed.

“But I can’t,” you finished. “Not because I don’t want to, it’s just that I will have so much to do that I don’t think it would feel like a date. How about I promise you a dance or something?”

“I could live with that,” Steve nodded. “But, I also want a raincheck.”

“A raincheck?” you murmured.

Steve stepped closer to you, so close you could smell the light scent of his cologne. “Agree to go out with me another time? Please?”

“Sh-sure,” you stammered.

“Great,” he smiled. You thought he was going to say more, but the shrill sound of his phone ringing interrupted you. He yanked his phone from his pocket, waved at you, and walked away, a worried look on his face. A few minutes later, you saw him speaking to Bucky before slipping out a side door.

You might have dwelled on it if you hadn’t gotten swept away by Bucky to go over his other “demands” for the evening. Once you had his list in hand, you followed him out to his car. 

“Looks good,” he grunted. “I’m impressed.” He opened the door and slipped inside.

You didn’t get a chance to thank him because the car door slammed in your face and he was gone. That didn’t stop you from smiling. He wasn’t as unreasonable as you’d thought he’d be, which was a huge relief. You’d thought it would be much worse.

If you were lucky, the release party would go off without a hitch.

* * *

“As you all know, these books wouldn’t be possible without my best friend, Steve,” Bucky grinned, pointing at Steve, who was in the seat beside him. “If he didn’t let me pick his brain and well, steal his life, I’d still be working as a barista in that coffee shop in Queens.”

Polite laughter echoed around the room. You stood off in one corner, smiling, relieved. The evening was perfect. Bucky had been all smiles since he’d arrived, your formerly grumpy boss apparently gone for the night. He’d even given you a warm hug and whispered “great job” in your ear before vanishing into a crowd of people begging for his attention. Those two words had made your night.

You grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and took a sip. While you were happy things were going well, your nerves were still frayed. You wanted everything to be perfect. You needed it to be perfect.

You snuck a look at Steve out of the corner of your eye. He was watching Bucky, a faint smile on his face. He looked damn good in his dark blue suit and waistcoat, his beard neatly trimmed. Not that Bucky didn’t look good, in fact, he looked amazing in all black - suit, shirt, and tie. Your eyes had been drawn to him all night.

Bucky wrapped up his speech, which was the band’s cue to start playing music. Maybe now you could relax. You took another drink from your champagne and made your way through the crowd to the doors leading outside. It was a warm spring night, so you’d asked to have the doors opened once the band started to play and the venue owner had done it immediately. This venue had been the perfect choice.

You stepped outside and took a deep breath. You felt good, really good. For the first time in weeks, you weren’t worried that you might lose your job. Those two little words from Bucky had eased your mind.

“You did great tonight.”

You turned to see Steve standing a few feet away. His hands were shoved in his pockets and he had a shy smile on his face.

“Thank you,” you murmured. “As long as Bucky’s happy, I’m happy.”

“Bucky’s very happy,” Steve chuckled. “He’s beaming. You should probably know that he told me the best thing he’s ever done is keep you on as his assistant.”

“Really? He said that?”

He nodded. “And Bucky doesn’t hand out compliments right and left. He’s tight-lipped.”

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t I know it.”

Steve grabbed your hand and tugged lightly. “Come here.”

You let him pull you into the circle of his arms, his hand on your back, his cheek resting against your temple. You swayed back and forth to the music floating through the air. You weren’t going to lie, you enjoyed the feeling of being in Steve’s arms. A lot.

You were just getting used to the feel of being in his arms when he grumbled under his breath, pulled back, and yanked his phone from his pocket. He read whatever was on the screen, then shoved the phone back in his pocket.

“I have to go,” he sighed, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Duty calls.” He leaned over you, his hand coming up and curling around the back of your neck. He kissed you, at first nothing more than a brush of his lips against yours but it quickly changed, the kiss deepening. When he released you, you wanted to scream. You wanted more.

“I have to go,” he mumbled. “I’ll call you later.”

He didn’t wait for an answer, just turned and hurried inside. You saw him stop and whisper something in Bucky’s ear, then he headed for the door.

Bucky caught your eye and gestured for you to join him. You put a smile on your face and went to see what your boss wanted.

* * *

You spent Saturday laying around in your pajamas, your phone off, Netflix on. You needed a day to relax and recharge. Sunday you met Wanda for lunch and spent some time at your favorite bookstore down the street from your apartment. You came home with several new books, curled up your bed, and read until you fell asleep.

Monday morning came far too soon. You dragged yourself out of bed, wondering what the day had in store for you. Bucky had a press junket to attend, but the details of that had been handled by the publishing company, and tomorrow he had a book signing at Books Are Magic. You had no idea what he wanted from you for the next few days, but a big part of working for James Buchanan Barnes was having the ability to be flexible. He could shift gears in a heartbeat and you needed to be able to keep up.

You stopped for coffee, the biggest cup you could buy, along with one for Bucky. You had no idea if Steve would be there or not; you’d gotten one quick phone call from him on Sunday to tell you that a huge case had fallen in his lap and he wasn’t sure when he’d see you again. He apologized profusely, which you thought was sweet and unnecessary, but you appreciated the effort just the same. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the kiss you’d shared, what it meant, and what Bucky would think about his assistant kissing his best friend. 

You weren’t sure you wanted to think about that at all, especially since you still found yourself attracted to Bucky. You’d hoped after the kiss you’d shared with Steve that maybe your attraction for Bucky would have somehow magically disappeared, except as soon as he walked through his apartment door after his run, you realized that wasn’t the case.

Since you’d last seen him on Friday night, he’d hadn’t shaved and his cheeks were dusted with dark stubble. You had to force yourself not to stare at the way his tight t-shirt and shorts emphasized his well-toned body. To your surprise, he seemed to be in a good mood, waving and grunting hello in your direction as he went into the bathroom.

Not sure what you were doing for the day, you grabbed the remote and pulled up one of your playlists, turning the volume up so you could hear it over the sound of the shower in the other room. You set up your workspace, rearranging it until it was just perfect. Once you had that done, you wandered around the room, pulling books from the shelves and putting them back.

“What the hell are we listening to?” Bucky grumbled.

“Music,” you retorted.

“This is not music,” he muttered. “Where is the remote?”

You snatched the remote off the coffee table and held it behind your back. “Just because you listen to old man music doesn’t mean other music is bad.”

“Give me the remote, Y/N,” Bucky ordered, stepping closer to you.

At first, you thought he was angry, but then you noticed the little smirk on his face. You took a step back and shook your head.

“I don’t think so,” you laughed.

Bucky moved closer and you tried to move away from him, but you had backed yourself into a corner between the couch and the coffee table. Your eyes darted around, looking for an escape, but you had nowhere to go. You tried to sidestep him, but he caught your elbow and tried to grab the remote. Somehow it flew out of your hand and you both lunged for it, your limbs tangling together, the two of you falling onto the couch, the remote bouncing off of your forehead and landing on the floor by Bucky’s knee.

“Ouch,” you gasped, your hand going to your forehead.

Bucky pressed his lips to your forehead, right where the remote had smacked you. Without even thinking, your arms came up and wrapped around his back. His lips slid down your jaw to your mouth and then he was kissing you with a hunger that surprised you but one that you shared.

You could have gone on kissing Bucky forever, but the intercom by the door buzzed, the sound of George’s voice echoing through the apartment.

“Mr. Barnes? Your car is here.”

Bucky reluctantly pulled away and pushed himself to his feet. He pushed a hand through his hair and cleared his throat.

“I...uh...I gotta go.” He looked around the room like he was lost, then back at you. “I, um...I’ll see you later.”

Before you could blink, he was gone, the door closing behind him. You threw an arm over your eyes and exhaled slowly.

“Well, shit.”


	3. Stunned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things take a turn you never expected.

Bucky didn’t call you later. You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t mean anything; he was busy, what with the book and the press and everything, but telling yourself that didn’t soothe your nerves in any way.

Steve didn’t call either. You hadn’t seen him since Friday and you’d only exchanged a few text messages with him over the weekend. Again, not helping your nerves.

You spent most of the day alternating between pacing the living room, trying to organize the two closets full of research material, and wondering what the hell you were going to do. You were attracted to two men and it seemed that they were attracted to you. Choosing one over the other might destroy their friendship and would surely cost you your job. You contemplated quitting, maybe going into hiding, running off to California or Florida, or maybe even Canada, to escape the insanity you felt teasing the edges of your brain.

By the time you left Bucky’s apartment for the day, you were mentally exhausted. You needed a break and someone to talk to.

“Wanda,” you moaned as soon as she answered her phone. “Please for the love of all that’s holy, can you meet me for drinks?”

“Yeah, of course,” she replied. “Half an hour, at The Bearded Lady?”

“Perfect,” you sighed. “I’ll meet you there.”

You got to the popular Brooklyn bar first and snagged a table in the back. You ordered two margaritas and two of their to-die-for grilled cheese sandwiches. Shortly after you gave the waitress your order, Wanda slid into the booth across from you.

“Alright, you sounded like you were in a panic. What the hell is going on?” she asked.

You leaned over the table and dropped your voice to a whisper. “Bucky kissed me.”

“What? Who kissed you?”

“Bucky...I mean James. James kissed me,” you hissed.

“James?” Wanda gasped. “James, as in your boss James? He kissed you?”

“Yes,” you snapped.

“Um...okay...wow,” Wanda mumbled. She sat back and pushed a hand through her fiery red hair. “That’s...wow.”

“I know,” you mumbled.

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know,” you sighed.

The waitress appeared with your drinks, set them in front of you, and reassured you that your sandwiches would be ready any minute before disappearing back behind the bar.

“There’s something else,” you said once she was gone.

“What?”

“It’s Steve,” you replied. “I...I kissed Steve, too.”

Wanda’s eyes widened. “What? When?”

“Friday night, at the release party, right before he left.”

“But, he’s James’s best friend,” Wanda murmured.

“Don’t you think I know that? That’s why I’m panicking right now.”

“I’d be panicking if I was you, too,” she said.

“Wow, thanks, that’s helpful.” You dropped your head to the table with a heavy sigh.

Wanda reached across the table and put her hands over yours. “Hey, it’s okay.”

You sat up and shook your head. “No, it’s not okay, Wanda. See, the thing is, I’m attracted to both of them. I kissed them both. And I know if I choose one over the other then I stand the chance of driving a wedge between two people who have been friends since they were kids. Or losing the first job I’ve had in years that I actually love. Or both. How the hell do I get myself in these predicaments?” 

Wanda shrugged. “Look at the bright side,” she said. “You were kissed by two gorgeous guys in what, like three days? Who else do you know that has two attractive men vying for their attention?”

You shook your head and sighed. “Leave it to you to find a bright side to my dilemma.”.

“Come on, let’s drown your sorrows in alcohol,” your friend laughed. “Maybe it will help you figure out what you’re going to do.”

“Run away to Canada?” you joked.

“Maybe you could talk to them?”

“What?” you balked. “I don’t think so!” Just the thought made your head spin and bile rise in your throat.

“Look, Y/N, you’re my best friend,” Wanda said. “And I support you one hundred percent. Even if you think you should run away to Canada. But, that’s not going to solve or fix anything. You need to talk to Steve and James. Be honest with them. It’s the right thing to do.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and glared at Wanda. She didn’t back down; she was unnervingly stoic. You both hated and loved that about her.

“Fine,” you mumbled, reaching for your drink. “I’ll do the right thing and talk to them.”

“That’s the girl I know and love,” Wanda smiled. “Now, where’s our grilled cheese?”

* * *

Tuesday morning came far too soon. You were half-hungover and not even the extra-large coffee in your hand seemed to be helping. You’d considered calling in sick, but it was release day and it was going to be busy. So you had dragged yourself out of bed, gotten dressed, stopped for coffee, and now you were standing in front of Bucky’s building, butterflies dancing in your stomach. After three drinks last night, you’d somehow convinced yourself, with a little help from Wanda, that you could talk to both Steve and Bucky and straighten out this little problem you had.

“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N,” George said, pulling you from your thoughts as he opened the door for you.

“Good morning, George,” you smiled. “Is Mr. Barnes out for a run?”

“No, ma’am, I do believe he’s home,” George replied. “I haven’t heard from him all morning.”

Of course, Bucky was home. The one day you wanted him to be out for a run, or out to breakfast, or out doing God-knew-what, he was home. You just needed to catch your breath before you talked to him. You opted to take the stairs rather than the elevator. And you decided to take them very, very slowly.

Eventually, you stood in front of Bucky’s apartment door, trying to psych yourself up. You were just going to march in there and talk to Bucky and then you were going to hunt down Steve and talk to him. You were going to be an adult about this whole situation. No matter how desperately you wanted to run away and hide.

You took a deep breath and opened the door. At first, you thought the apartment was empty, but then you heard voices coming from the living room. Male voices.

“Crap,” you muttered under your breath.

Bucky appeared in front of you. “Y/N, we were just talking about you,” he said.

“W-we?” you mumbled.

“Me and Steve,” he explained.

“Hi, Y/N,” Steve called, still out of sight.

“Um...uh, why were you talking about me?” you asked.

Steve peeked over Bucky’s shoulder and smiled at you. “Why don’t you come and sit down?” he asked.

“I..I’ve got...well, I, um, have a lot of work to do,” you stammered.

“I think it can wait a few minutes,” Steve laughed.

“It can wait,” Bucky nodded. “We need to talk.” He snatched your hand and dragged you into the living room. 

When he pointed at the end of the couch under the huge clock window, you sat down, Steve beside you and Bucky across from you. They both looked very serious and you suspected things were about to get very interesting.

“We know you kissed both of us,” Bucky said.

“Buck,” Steve sighed, shaking his head. “I thought we were going to be tactful? Not just blurt things out.”

“What?” Bucky grumbled. “No sense beating around the bush. We might as well get straight to the point.”

Your heart was pounding so loud you could barely hear what they were saying. They knew. They both knew. Of course, they did, it would be ridiculous to think that the two best friends wouldn’t tell each other something like that. What the hell were you going to do?

“Earth to Y/N,” Steve murmured, his hand on your leg, shaking it gently.

“I...uh…” Not one clear thought would form in your head. Not one. “I’m...I’m…” You blew out a shaky breath. “I’m sorry?” It was more of a question than a statement.

Bucky leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, a half-smile on his face. “No need to apologize,” he said calmly. “We aren’t upset.”

“Y-you’re not?”

“No,” Steve added. “Not even a little.”

You sat back and stared at the two men. This had to be a joke. They had to be upset, how could they not be?

“Y/N?” Bucky prodded.

“You’re joking, right?”

“No, doll,” Steve chuckled. “We’re not joking. In fact, we’re totally okay with it. That’s what we want to talk to you about.”

“I don’t understand,” you mumbled.

Steve glanced at Bucky, then at you. Bucky huffed loudly, then he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees.

“You know that Steve and I have been friends for a long time,” he explained. “It’s not surprising that during all that time, we’ve occasionally liked the same girl. Or had one girl like both of us.”

“We figured out fairly quickly that if we weren’t careful, we’d end up ruining our friendship,” Steve continued. “So, we came to an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?” you asked.

“That we would never let a woman come between us,” Bucky said.

Your head hurt, right between your eyes. “Are you firing me?” you whispered.

“No,” Bucky snapped. “Absolutely not!”

“O-okay,” you stammered. “I-I guess I don’t understand.”

Steve shot a dirty look in his friend’s direction and gently squeezed your knee. “What Bucky is trying to say is that we would be okay with you dating both of us.”

Steve’s words shocked you to your core. That was the last thing you’d expected to hear him say. In fact, you were afraid you’d heard him wrong.

“Wait? What?”

Steve smiled and leaned closer. “Over the years, Buck and I have shared a lot of things. It's kind of what happens when you’re as close as we are. We’re pretty open when it comes to relationships. If you want to date both of us, we’d be fine with that. And if you eventually want to just date one of us or neither of us or tell us to go screw ourselves, we’d be okay with that, too.”

Bucky put his hand on your knee beside Steve’s. “We’re okay with both of us being in a relationship with you, Y/N. But only if you’re okay with it.”

You closed your eyes and tried to wrap your head around the things they were saying. “So, you’re telling me that if I decide to date both of you, you’re okay with that?”

They nodded in unison. This was getting weird.

“What if I decide to sleep with both of you?”

“Totally fine with it,” Bucky replied.

“Not a problem,” Steve agreed.

It was like you were living in a fantasy world. You’d only read about stuff like this in fanfiction, never in real life. You needed to pinch yourself to see if you were dreaming.

“How...how are you guys so cool with this?” you murmured.

Bucky laughed. “It’s like Steve said, if we weren’t, our friendship would fall apart. We aren’t about to let that happen.”

“Have you done this before?” you asked.

“A few times,” Steve shrugged. “We’ve also dated women the other hasn’t even known or been interested in. Like I said, we’re pretty open in our relationships.”

“Basically, Y/N, we’re asking you to be in a poly, open relationship with the two of us,” Bucky said. “No secrets, no hiding anything. Just three people completely open about their relationships with each other.”

For the first time in your life, you went with your heart instead of your head. You ignored the nagging voice of reason screaming at you, put your hands over theirs, and said the first thing that popped into your head.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

An even bigger smile spread across Bucky’s face and Steve pressed a kiss to your cheek. And even though your head was spinning and you felt like you were in a dream, it felt right.

Steve bounded to his feet and yanked his phone from his pocket. “I’ve been ignoring this for the last ten minutes,” he grumbled. He quickly read what was on the screen. “Shit. They found a body in Prospect Park. I gotta go.” He kissed the top of your head and slapped Bucky on the shoulder. “I’ll see you guys later.”

Once the door had closed behind him, Bucky turned back to you. “You okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I just...I have to let it sink in.” You smiled and shrugged.

“It will,” Bucky said. “And I’d love to give you time to let it sink in, but we have to be at the bookstore in half an hour.”

“Work. Right. I almost forgot.” You grabbed your bag and stood up. “Let’s go.”

“One thing first,” Bucky said. He tugged you close and brushed a kiss across your lips. “Okay, now we can go to work.”

* * *

Steve left first, hurrying out the door and climbing into his nondescript police issued vehicle. They must have found the body. Steve would head directly to the crime scene. 

That wasn’t where he was interested in going, though. He waited until Bucky and that girl that worked for him left, climbing into a black SUV waiting out front before he started his car and pulled into traffic behind them.

Did wonder boy know that his writer friend was making moves on the same woman he was interested in? Would that be the thing that would tear them apart? Could he use that to his advantage?

He certainly couldn’t wait to find out.


	4. Wonder Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have your first date with Steve. 

He eased behind the tree a hundred yards from the crime scene, keeping his eye on Steve. Of course, wonder boy was bossing everyone around, telling them what to do, where to go, probably how to act. He could almost hear Steve’s voice even way on the other side of the park. He could literally hear that tone, the pompous ass, I’m-better-than-everyone attitude tone he always used. God, he hated Steve Rogers.

Once he’d left the bookstore where Bucky and that girl were, he’d come straight here, anxious to see how Steve was dealing with the body in the park. He’d wanted him to be rattled, scared, and off his game. Instead, he was calm, cool, and in control.

Obviously, wonder boy hadn’t been pushed far enough. He was going to have to do more if he really wanted to rattle Steve.

* * *

“How about seven?” Steve asked, sliding into the seat beside you, an adorable smile on his face. “I thought we’d have dinner at my place.”

“O-okay,” you murmured.

“Is that not okay?”

“No, that sounds great,” you said, maybe a little too quickly. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Sorry. I’m nervous.”

Steve chuckled. “Look, it’s just dinner, I promise. You, me, and pizza from Front Street.”

“Front Street, huh? Please tell me that you’re getting the white pizza?”

“I can do that,” he laughed. “So, seven?”

“Seven sounds great,” you nodded.

“What’s happening at seven?” Bucky muttered. He grabbed one of the coffees from the table and dropped to the couch. He still looked half-asleep, his hair standing on end, his eyes partially open, and his clothes rumpled.

“Dinner at my place,” Steve replied.

Bucky took a swallow of his coffee. “You picking her up?”

“No,” Steve huffed, shooting a dirty look Bucky’s way. “I have to work. I was -”

“I’ll get her a car,” Bucky interjected. “She can head over after work. If that’s okay with you, doll?” He peered around Steve to look at you.

“Sh-sure,” you said. “I’m good with that.”

“Great,” Steve said. “Thanks, Buck.” He pushed his chair back and rose to his feet, your hand in his. He tugged you close, into the circle of his arms, hugging you close, his lips pressed to yours. “I gotta go. Duty calls.”

“What’s going on with that case in Prospect Park?” Bucky asked.

“How do you know about that?” Steve muttered, turning to look at his best friend.

“I watched the news, you were on it,” Bucky shrugged. “It looked like it was -”

“I can’t talk about it right now, Buck. If and when I can, we’ll discuss it. Right now, no.” He kissed you again, grabbed his coffee, and left.

You sank into your chair; you still weren’t sure you would ever get used to dating both Steve and Bucky and them being not only okay with it but completely supportive. You glanced at Bucky out of the corner of your eye. His head rested against the back of the couch and his eyes were closed. He looked like he was asleep.

“Are you alright, Bucky?” you asked. You couldn’t help but wonder if seeing Steve kiss you bothered him.

“Tired,” he mumbled without opening his eyes. “Hungover.”

“Late night?”

Bucky smiled. “Yeah. See, Steve and I have this tradition after every book is published. We go out and get shit-faced. We were out last night until after two. I had a _lot_ to drink.”

“Really? Steve seemed fine.”

“Wonder boy never gets phased,” Bucky scoffed. “He could drink a keg, two dozen shots, stay up all night, then go to work with a smile on his face and solve a murder. All without batting an eye.”

“Wonder boy?” you giggled.

“That’s what the guys at the precinct call him,” Bucky explained. “Wonder boy. Because he can do no wrong. He’s the youngest guy to ever make detective, he’s received more commendations than anyone in his house, and he’s a genuinely nice guy. Since becoming a detective, he’s solved more murders than anyone else on the force. And then there’s the whole book thing.”

You crossed the room and perched on the edge of the couch beside Bucky. He opened one eye and looked at you, then he closed it again, but he did reach out and take your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Does he get a lot of grief for your books?”

Bucky laughed. “A little. Plus the extra attention from the press, stuff like that. He takes it all in stride, but there have been guys he’s worked with that have had a hard time with Steve’s fame.” He did finger quotes with one hand when he said ‘fame’. “Not that Steve sees himself as famous. I don’t think he ever will.” He gave a little tug, urging you to move closer, which you did. His arm slid around your waist and he pressed a kiss to your lips.

“Good morning,” he whispered.

“Good morning, Mr. Barnes.”

“So, Steve’s getting his first date, when do I get mine?” He kissed you again, your body involuntarily leaning into his.

“Hmm, I’ll have to check your schedule,” you giggled.

“Speaking of schedule,” he sighed. “Don’t I have someplace to be?”

“Yep,” you nodded. “In an hour. You should get moving.”

Bucky fell against the back of the couch with an exaggerated groan. “Ugh, fine,” he grumbled. “But, check my schedule and figure out when I can take you out someplace fancy.”

“Fancy, huh?” you laughed as he disentangled himself from you and pushed himself to his feet.

“Gotta do better than Steve,” he said, winking at you over his shoulder before heading back through the apartment, his laughter echoing off the walls.

* * *

You took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. Your stomach was twisting with nerves and your hands were shaking. This was the first time you’d be alone with Steve and for some reason that made you unbelievably nervous. It took you a second to find Steve’s name and then you had to take another deep breath before you pushed the buzzer.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Steve, it’s uh...it’s me.”

“Come on up.” You heard a loud buzzing sound and a click, then the door opened. You pulled it open and made your way upstairs. You found Steve’s door ajar, so you pushed it open and stepped inside.

“Steve?”

He peeked around the corner. “Hi,” he smiled. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” you nodded.

“Great, pizza’s upstairs,” he said, pointing at an open doorway next to you with the wineglass in his hand. 

“Upstairs?”

“Yep, upstairs. Follow me.” He stopped in front of you for a kiss then he nodded at a set of stairs to his left.

You followed him up a staircase, your hand trailing along the rail, your eyes on his back. You stepped out onto a large deck, tastefully decorated with gray patio furniture, colorful cushions strewn about. On a large table sat two pizza boxes and a bottle of wine. Steve set the glasses down and turned to you. He helped you out of your jacket, tossing it on one of the chaise lounge chairs before pulling out a chair for you.

“This place is gorgeous,” you murmured, easing into the chair. “The view is incredible.” 

“It is,” Steve nodded. “I come up here to clear my head all the time. It’s a great place to just think. There’s a smaller deck on the other side, just off my bedroom.”

“Can I ask you the obvious question?”

“How do I afford this place on a detective’s salary?” he said, a half-smile on his face.

“So, you’ve heard that question before?”

“About a million times,” he chuckled. “It’s one of the first questions anyone asks. And the answer is Bucky.”

“Bucky bought this place for you?”

Steve shrugged. “He is my best friend and I am the inspiration for all of his books. When he signed the book deal with Scribner, he bought his place, and about three months later, I stumbled on this place and he bought it for me.”

“That was very kind of him,” you smiled.

“Bucky’s a good guy,” Steve replied. “Despite the grumpy exterior. Originally, I just asked for a loan to make a down payment. We actually argued about it for a week. It wasn’t until my real estate agent told me another buyer was interested and if I didn’t act fast I’d lose it that Bucky and I came to an agreement.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, I promised to shut up and quit whining and he promised to pay cash for this place, no strings attached. That was the agreement.”

“Sounds like Bucky,” you laughed.

“Do you like working for Buck?” Steve asked.

“I do,” you nodded. “A lot. He’s a great writer and honestly, despite coming off as an incredible grouch, he’s actually not that bad to work with. You just have to know how to handle him.”

Steve snorted and spit his wine back into his glass. Your eyes widened at the implications of what you’d said.

“Oh god, I mean, I didn’t… We haven’t…”

“It’s okay,” Steve laughed. “I know what you meant. Bucky isn’t difficult, he’s just very focused and particular about how he likes things. He had a hard time finding an assistant that he liked. He was really worried that he’d lose you as his assistant after he kissed you. In fact, he called me freaking out about it. He was convinced you’d sue him for sexual harassment or something. He spent the entire day waiting for his publisher to call him to tell him you’d quit.”

You put your hand over your face and shook your head. “Oh my god,” you laughed. “I spent the whole day thinking the two of you would hate me because I kissed both of you.”

Steve leaned forward, his elbows on the table, his eyes wide and earnest. “Are you really okay with dating both of us? I don’t want you to feel pressured into it or anything. Not everybody can handle it.”

You dropped your eyes and picked at the napkin on the table in front of you. “It’s a little overwhelming -”

“A little?” Steve interrupted.

“Okay, a lot,” you mumbled. “It’s kind of hard to wrap my head around the fact that _you guys_ are okay with this whole thing. Like this morning when Bucky offered to get me a car to bring me over here or when you kissed me in front of him and he didn’t even flinch. I’m still not sure what I can even say, you know about what we each do. Like, would you want to hear about my day with Bucky? Is he going to want to hear about our date? I don’t know, it’s all kind of weird and surreal and I’m still not sure what I’m doing or if I’m doing it right or wrong.”

Steve put his hand over yours. “Hey, it’s okay,” he murmured. “There is no right or wrong with this whole situation. The best advice I can give you is to just be honest with us. Both of us. That’s why Bucky and I are comfortable with kissing you or talking about our dates or offering to help the other one out because we aren’t hiding anything. You’re not going to hurt my feelings if you kiss Buck in front of me or vice versa. I know you have feelings for him and he has feelings for you, and I have feelings for you, and blah, blah, blah, I could go on all night. The most important thing to remember is to be honest. Period. That’s what’s important. Honesty.”

You nodded, grateful for Steve’s patience with you. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure,” he said.

“How’d you get to be so great?”

“Years of practice, doll,” he laughed. “Now, let’s eat, because I’m starving.”

* * *

It was well after midnight when the girl came out of Steve’s condo, wonder boy hot on her heels. He opened the door to her cab and kissed her before he ushered her into the car. Steve stood on the sidewalk and watched the cab drive away, not going inside until it rounded the corner.

He checked the time on his phone. He still had a few hours until dawn, but it was important he didn’t mess this up. The timing was everything. If he didn’t get this perfect, wonder boy and his best friend, the author, would never know this was all about them.


	5. The Author

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You have your first date with Bucky. 

“Did you have fun, doll?” Bucky murmured.

“Yes,” you nodded. “It was wonderful. Thank you. You weren’t grumpy at all.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the momentary look of astonishment on his face.

Bucky chuckled, took your hand in his, and pulled you close, your body flush against his. He brushed a kiss across your lips, his tongue tracing your lower lip.

“I’m only grumpy when I’m working,” he growled. He kissed you again, longer, deeper, more insistent, taking your breath away.

“Would you like to come in?” you whispered once he released you.

Bucky sighed heavily, his forearm resting on the door jamb above your head. He shook his head and rolled his eyes. “I would love to, but I’m meeting my sister for breakfast in the morning and I have to get up early to drive to upstate New York.”

“You know I see your calendar every day, right? And there was nothing on there about visiting your sister.” You twisted your fingers in the collar of his suit jacket, your eyes narrowing as you gave him your best disapproving stare. Which wasn’t working very well because you were about to laugh.

Bucky laughed. “No, there wasn’t. But, I assure you, I do have a sister and she does live in upstate New York. She called me about an hour before our date to see if I could come up. My nephews are driving her crazy and want to see me.”

“Funny, I didn’t know you had a sister or nephews. Wow, the things you find out when you start dating your boss.”

“Yeah, well if you stick around, you’ll find out a lot of other stuff about me you didn’t know,” he smirked. “Look, I better go. I’ll call you later.” He kissed you again, his arms snaking around your waist, squeezing you tight.

“You’re not going,” you mumbled.

“I know,” he sighed. “I know.” He released you and took a step back. “I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course,” you smiled.

“Good night.” He squeezed your hand one last time then he disappeared back down the stairs.

You slipped into your apartment, threw the lock, and hurried over to the window. You kneeled on the window seat and looked out to the street where you saw Bucky climbing into the car. You watched until it pulled away from the curb. Just seconds later, a dark-colored sedan pulled away from the curb and followed Bucky’s car. For a brief second, something seemed familiar about the car, but you quickly shook it off. All you wanted to do was take a shower, put on your pajamas, and relive every minute of your date with Bucky.

It started with dinner at The Osprey, seated at a table with an amazing view of the river and the Brooklyn Bridge. After dinner, Bucky suggested that the two of you go for a walk in the park; he kept your hand in his, pressed close to him, the warmth of his body seeping into you. You asked him how he’d gotten into writing, the struggles he’d gone through, the piles of rejections until he’d finally found an editor willing to sit down and read one of his manuscripts.

“After that, it was a whirlwind,” Bucky said. “Rewrites, editing, the book release. It took off and the next thing I knew, they’d signed me to a ten-book deal.”

He talked about moving into his apartment after living in a cramped one-bedroom with Steve for so many years, one of them on the couch and the other in the bedroom. He told you how he’d had wanted to buy Steve his condo, how they argued and fought over it for weeks until Bucky called the real estate agent and convinced her to tell Steve someone else was interested in it.

“You can not tell Steve that,” he laughed. “He’ll kill me.”

That naturally led to the two of you talking about his friendship with Steve and how he’d come to base his main character off of his best friend. 

“Steve has always been the good guy,” he explained. “Even when we were kids and he was skinny and asthmatic and sick all the time, he was always the first one to stand up to somebody or to look out for the other kids being bullied. He never backed down. No matter what. When he became a cop, it didn’t change. Same when he became a detective. Steve’s always the good guy. As I wrote, it became obvious that Shaun was Steve. I decided to run with it and it’s paid off.”

The date had wrapped up with the good night kiss at your door. It had been a perfect evening. You fell asleep replaying every minute of the night in your head.

* * *

Thanks to dating two men, the weekend seemed to fly by. If you weren’t meeting Steve for a quick lunch downtown, then you were FaceTiming with Bucky, his nephews peering over his shoulder to see you. Wanda kept up a steady barrage of phone calls wanting updates about your busy love life and Steve kept calling to make plans to catch a movie. By Sunday night, you were exhausted, falling asleep curled up on the couch while you were on the phone with Bucky.

You were relieved to go to work on Monday; maybe it would give you a chance to relax. You stopped at the coffee shop on the corner and ordered three coffees, adding the third in case Steve was at Bucky’s, then you headed to work.

You hadn’t been wrong to assume Steve would be at Bucky’s place. You breezed through the front door to find both men seated on the couch, talking. As soon as you stepped into the room, you knew something was wrong. Steve was sitting on the couch, a pinched expression on his face, his hands clasped between his legs while Bucky sat across from him, looking as miserable as Steve. 

“Hey guys,” you said, setting the drinks on the table. “Um, is something wrong?”

Steve scrubbed a hand over his face and shrugged. “We don’t know yet.”

“What’s going on?” you asked, your stomach twisting nervously.

Bucky scowled and pushed himself to his feet. “Somebody is trying to screw with us.” He stomped out of the room, the bedroom door slamming behind him.

You turned to Steve, confused. He patted the couch next to him, so you crossed the room and sat down beside him.

“Steve, what is going on?” you asked. “Why is Bucky so upset?”

“You know how busy I’ve been?”

You nodded and took his hand, squeezing it gently.

“It’s not just one murder, it’s three,” he explained. “Three murder cases in the last couple of weeks.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with Bucky?”

“All three murders that have been committed have been identical to a murder that occurred in one of Bucky’s books. In fact, the first murder was exactly like the murder in Bucky’s first book, the second was from his second book, and -”

“The third was from his third book?” you finished.

“Exactly,” Steve nodded.

“What the hell?” you mumbled.

“That’s pretty much what we’re thinking,” Steve sighed.

“Are you working on all three cases?”

“I am,” Steve nodded. “We’re working them as if they are all connected, which I think they are. Coulson isn’t happy about it, but he’s letting it slide. For now. He said if it gets too personal, I’m off all three cases.”

“Isn’t it already too personal?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he mumbled. “Yeah, it is. Especially for Bucky. But I had to tell him before he saw it in the news. Somebody in the press has put two and two together and the story is gonna run today. I wanted him to hear it from me first. And he has to come down to the station and answer some questions.” He rose to his feet and grabbed his jacket off the end of the couch. “He needs to be at the station at one. Can you make sure that happens, doll?”

“Of course,” you said. 

He kissed the top of your head then he made his way down the hall to Bucky’s bedroom door. He knocked and you heard the two of them talking quietly before Steve waved at you and left. While you waited for Bucky, you sat at the table and took a look at his schedule for the afternoon to see if you could move some things around. After a few minutes, he emerged from the bedroom, grabbed his coffee from the table, and stood at the end of the table.

“Are you okay?” you asked.

“No,” he muttered. “I’m not.” He cleared his throat and shook his head. “Clear my schedule this afternoon. I have plans.” He spun around and returned to the bedroom. A few minutes later, you heard him typing furiously on his computer and mumbling to himself. 

You knew better than to bother him when he was like this, so you returned to the living room, finished setting up your workspace for the week, then you set to work clearing Bucky’s schedule and rearranging his afternoon. Bucky had also written some pages for a new book over the weekend and he’d sent you the outline to look over, so you turned your attention to that. Before you knew it, the morning had flown by and Bucky had emerged from his bedroom to head to the police station. He grunted something incoherent and stomped out the door. You could only shake your head and laugh.

Ten minutes later, your phone vibrated with an incoming text message.

_ Sorry, I was a grouch. Thank you for clearing my schedule. Could you pull the concordances on the first three books, please? And then go through the pages open on my computer, look for any glaring problems. I’ll call when I’m on my way back from the station _ .

You responded with a thumbs up and a smiley face, tucked your phone in your pocket, grabbed your bottle of water, and went into Bucky’s room. Once you pulled the concordances and set them on Bucky’s desk, you pulled up his chair so you could read the pages on his computer.

He must have been on fire because he had written about seven pages this morning. They were loaded with typos and misspellings and a multitude of mistakes, but they were good. Really good. You became so absorbed in reading and marking the pages with questions and suggestions, that you were surprised when you heard a noise in the other room.

You hadn’t heard Bucky come in and you didn’t think he had texted or called you, but you pulled your phone from your pocket just to check. Nothing. You set it on the edge of Bucky’s desk and rose to your feet, the urge to be as quiet as possible suddenly coming over you. You tiptoed across the room to the half-closed bedroom door - it had a tendency to swing shut - and peered out into the hallway.

The apartment door was open.

You dragged in a deep breath, your heart attempting to pound out of your chest. For some reason, fear wrapped its cold arms around you and squeezed. You swallowed past the lump rising in your throat. You pulled open the door and stepped into the hall, stopping in front of the entrance to the kitchen. You could hear what sounded like books dropping to the floor and someone mumbling to themselves.

It didn’t sound like Bucky or Steve.

You spun back around, your elbow knocking into the wall with a loud thunk as you ran back toward the bedroom. You slammed the door shut, catching a glimpse of a stocky, dark-haired man heading straight for you just before it closed. You threw the lock and lunged for your phone. Whoever was out there slammed into the door and the handle rattled, spinning side to side. You screamed and hit the emergency button on your phone.

The rattling stopped and whoever was out there cursed loudly, then you heard several more loud thumps as you slid to the floor and put your hands over your head, your ringing phone on the floor beside your leg.


	6. The Assistant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who is stalking Bucky and Steve? And are they stalking you as well?

You pulled the blanket tight around your shoulders and hunched over, wanting nothing more than to disappear into yourself. Even having Bucky on one side of you and Steve on the other did nothing to calm your nerves. You couldn’t stop shaking. Your eyes darted around the room, taking in the mess on the floor - your papers pulled from your bag, along with one of Bucky’s books, your purse emptied into a pile on the floor, your laptop broke on the chair. The sounds you heard must have been the intruder going through your things. Just the thought made you want to vomit.

Steve was clasping your hand and Bucky had his arm around your waist, and neither one of them seemed to care that people were giving the three of you odd looks.

“Alright, Ms. Y/L/N, I think that’s all the questions we have today,” the man Steve had introduced as Captain Coulson said. “We have officers downstairs interviewing the doorman and we’re canvassing the building to see if anyone saw the intruder. If we find out any additional information, we’ll be in touch. Detective Rogers, may I speak to you for a moment?”

Steve followed Captain Coulson to the door, squeezing your hand one last time before he got up. You turned to Bucky and buried your face in his chest, the tears you’d been desperately holding back slowly sliding down your face. When you heard the front door closed, the dam burst and you let go, sobbing into Bucky’s shirt.

He rubbed your back, his lips pressed to your temple, hugging you close. He was murmuring, but you weren’t sure what he was saying, just nonsensical words that somehow made you feel better. After a few minutes, you dragged in a stuttering breath and sat back, leaning against the couch cushions.

“I-I’m s-sorry,” you stammered.

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “What the hell are you sorry for? You didn’t do anything. Jesus, doll, some psycho breaks in here, goes after you, and you’re apologizing?” He wrapped a hand around the back of your neck and kissed you. “Do not apologize. Understand?”

A sudden, overwhelming exhaustion came over you, along with the urge to sleep. You laid your head on the pillow at the end of the couch and closed your eyes, Bucky’s hand held loosely in yours. You heard the front door open and close, the sound enough to make you jump, but the weight of Bucky’s hand on your hip calmed you immediately.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve murmured, crouching beside you to kiss your cheek. “Get some rest. Bucky and I will be right here, I promise.  _ We _ promise.”

You nodded, tugged the blanket up to your chin, and dragged in a deep breath. You could feel yourself drifting, the sound of Bucky’s and Steve’s voices lulling you into a state of semi-consciousness.

“What did Coulson say?” Bucky asked.

“He said it doesn’t look like a robbery,” Steve replied. “Nothing was taken, even though it looks like they were looking for something. Not that we know what. Coulson said he doesn’t think the intruder knew Y/N was here until he heard her in going back into the bedroom and his attempt to attack her was half-hearted at best.”

“Did you talk to George?”

“Yeah, he’s beside himself,” Steve said. “He feels like shit that this guy got past him. But, I doubt it’s George’s fault. One of the other apartments in the building is being remodeled and it looks like he slipped in with the contractor’s crew.”

“And back out again unseen,” Bucky muttered. “God damn it! If I had just been here -”

“But you weren’t, Buck,” Steve sighed. “Neither of us were.” The couch beside your head dipped a little, then you felt Steve’s hand in the center of your back, his thumb rubbing small circles between your shoulder blades. “I don’t want her to go home by herself.” 

“I agree,” Bucky said. “She can stay here.”

“You’ve only got the couch,” Steve shot back. “I have an extra room. Besides, what if he comes back here? She can stay at my place at night and I’ll bring her over here in the morning. That way, she won’t be alone. If I get called in on a case, I’ll call you.”

“Yeah, I could keep Wade on standby,” Bucky replied. “I’m sure he can use the money, what with Vanessa being pregnant and all. He won’t say no to a little extra cash thrown his way to be on call to chauffeur her around.”

“Yeah, I like the idea of Wade being her driver. I trust him.”

“Me, too,” Bucky said. “Alright, sounds good. She can stay with you at night and me during the day -”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” you mumbled. You pushed yourself upright, crossed your arms over your chest, and glared at the two men. “You’re talking about me like I’m not here and like I have no choice. I don’t appreciate it.”

Steve shook his head. “That wasn’t what we were doing, sweetheart,” he explained. “We were just trying to figure out how to keep you safe.”

“You don’t even know why that guy was in here,” you huffed. “It might not have had anything to do with me or Bucky.”

“Or it had everything to do with Bucky,” Steve countered. “We don’t know for sure. And if it is about Bucky, which is the assumption I am going with, then you are part of it. I’m trying to keep you safe.” He pointed at Bucky. “ _ We’re _ trying to keep you safe.”

You squeezed your eyes closed and rubbed the center of your forehead. You didn’t know if the headache you felt coming on was because of what you’d been through or because your boyfriends were making decisions for you without your input.

“Y/N, listen -” Bucky sighed.

“No, you two listen,” you interrupted. “This didn’t have anything to do with me. It was probably just some guy who was looking to steal stuff or maybe a crazy fan or something.”

“He went through  _ your _ things, doll,” Steve said gently. “The entire apartment belongs to Bucky but what did he do? He went through your things. He didn’t take your wallet or the laptop, instead, he went through your papers, your purse, and your wallet. He was looking for something. That worries me. A lot. I am not going to feel comfortable with you being alone until we find out who did this.”

“Humor him, sweetheart,” Bucky murmured. “He’s just looking out for you. It’ll just be for a few days, okay?”

You looked between Steve and Bucky. They were genuinely worried about you, you could see it in the way they kept looking at you, touching you, watching over you as if you might suddenly vanish into thin air. You exhaled slowly and nodded.

“Okay, I’ll do it,” you mumbled. “But, you have to promise me you won’t be overbearing.”

Bucky burst out laughing, the sound taking you by surprise. You couldn’t help but smile at the boyish grin on his face and the sheepish grin on Steve’s. You had a feeling you knew which one would be the overbearing one.

“Alright, who’s taking me to my place to get my things?”

* * *

He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, anxious, impatient. He hadn’t expected her to be there, to be in the apartment. Of course, he hadn’t seen the author leave, so he hadn’t realized that the assistant had stayed behind. In the months since he’d started following them, everywhere that Bucky had gone, she had gone. It had only made sense that she would go with him this afternoon. Except she hadn’t. She’d stayed behind. And she’d been there when he’d gone in.

She had almost ruined everything. Maybe she still could. If she’d seen him, if she was able to identify him, everything he had been planning would be ruined. 

He couldn’t let that happen.


	7. Mixed Emotions [7]: A Night Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You’re tired of being cooped up, as are Steve and Bucky. A night out sounds like a good idea.

Wade opened the back door for you, standing to one side so you could step out of the SUV. You grabbed your bag, jumped out, thanked Wade, and headed inside the building. George wasn’t working the door, not this late at night, but Bucky had made sure that all of the doormen knew who you were. Three minutes later, you were stepping into Bucky’s unlocked apartment.

“Hey, doll,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “You okay?”

“Tired,” you sighed. “Did Steve wake you up?”

“Nah, I was awake,” he shrugged. “Research. Besides, I would have gotten up for you.”

“You’re sweet,” you mumbled. You dropped your bag on the floor and stepped into the circle of his arms, your head on his shoulder. “Steve got called out on another murder case. He wouldn’t say, but I think it’s related to the other three.”

“Let’s get you some blankets and a pillow,” Bucky said. “We’ll make up the couch for you.”

You shook your head. You didn’t want to sleep on the couch. You didn’t want to be alone. The last few days had been a whirlwind of craziness and you were starting to feel the effects of it. You missed being at home, but you were afraid to be there alone. You were constantly worried about both Steve and Bucky and you couldn’t relax to save your life. You didn’t want to be alone, even if Bucky was only on the other side of the apartment.

“Can I...can I sleep with you?” you murmured.

“Of course,” Bucky said. He reached around you and locked the door, then he took your hand and led you down the short hallway to his bedroom.

You kicked off your shoes, climbed into the bed, and pulled the blankets up to your shoulder. Bucky turned off the light and climbed in beside you, scooting close enough to put his arm around you, your head tucked under his chin.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

You shrugged, which only caused Bucky to tighten his hold on you.

“Talk to me, sweetheart,” he murmured.

You exhaled slowly. “I’m worried about Steve,” you murmured. “And you. He doesn’t seem to think that there’s anything to worry about, but I think he’s wrong.”

“You’re doubting the great Steve Rogers?” Bucky chuckled. “Have you told him that?”

“I tried,” you replied. “We ended up arguing about it. He told me I should trust him, which I do, of course. I just don’t trust the guy killing people to get some kind of rise out of the two of you.”

“Steve knows what he’s doing,” Bucky said. “I promise you that. He’s good at his job -”

“I’m not saying he isn’t,” you interrupted. “But I still worry. Aren’t I entitled to that?”

“You are,” he nodded. “To be honest with you, I’m worried, too. Not just about you, but Steve and to an extent, me. And your suspicion is correct. That murder he got called out on tonight? He texted me, told me he thinks it’s another one. The concordances are stacked out in the living room; I was going through them when you got here.”

You rolled over so you could look at Bucky. “Did you find anything?”

“Not yet, but Steve didn’t have much information to give me. He’s going to call me when he knows more. I am officially consulting on the case.” Bucky scrubbed a hand down his face. “I haven’t been able to write for days. It’s killing me that someone is murdering people and using my books to do it.”

You put your hand on his face, your thumb brushing his cheek. “I didn’t even think about that. I’ve just been worried that you’d get hurt. I didn’t even think about the emotional toll this must be having on you.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. “I’m sorry.”

Bucky hugged you close, his lips brushing yours as he spoke. “Don’t apologize.”

You tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled him closer, your mouth on his, kissing him. Bucky groaned low in the back of his throat as the kiss deepened.

You closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in kissing Bucky. Being with him made you forget everything, made you feel safe, protected. You wished it could be like that forever.

* * *

“I think we need a night out,” Steve said, leaning his head against the back of the couch. “I’m tired of hiding in the house.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” you asked, dropping your wineglass in the sink. “After everything that’s happened?”

It had been more than a week since someone had broken into Bucky’s apartment and you’d started staying with the boys. Steve had confirmed that the fourth murder that had been committed was just like one in Bucky’s fourth book,  _ A Murder at Midnight _ . Both Steve and Bucky were going out of their minds trying to figure out who was responsible. Bucky was combing through his concordances looking for anything that might be useful, while Steve was working overtime trying to find the killer. The only reason he wasn’t working at that moment was that Coulson had forced him to take the night off. 

“Yes,” Steve nodded. “Especially after everything that’s happened. What do you think, Buck?”

Bucky shrugged. “I think it could help us all relax.” He leaned back and took a drink from his bottle of beer. “You know, there’s a new exhibit opening at the Met this weekend. There’s a huge party for some of the benefactors that have donated to the museum. I got an invitation last week. I tossed it in the drawer because of everything that has been going on. But maybe getting out is a good idea.”

You sat down beside Steve on the couch, his arm falling over your shoulder. You looked between your boyfriends and smiled. They had a point. “I think that sounds wonderful. I’d love a reason to dress up and have fun for a night.”

“Great,” Bucky grinned. “I’ll RSVP tomorrow. I’m sure that I can get us a good table despite the late notice.”

Steve pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you sure you want to go home tonight?” he murmured.

“Yes,” you nodded. “I’ve been staying here or at Bucky’s place for a week. I want to go home, use my own shower, sleep in my own bed, even if it’s just for one night. I don’t want to argue about it anymore.”

“Fine,” Steve grumbled. “But Wade is driving you home and picking you up in the morning. Okay?”

“Okay,” you sighed. “Wade can drive me home.”

“Speaking of Wade, he’s out front,” Bucky said, looking at his phone. “We should go.”

Steve walked the two of you out to the waiting SUV. Bucky promised to keep him updated about the event at the Met before climbing into the back of the waiting vehicle. Steve took your hand and pulled you into his arms. He kissed you almost like he was afraid he’d never see you again. When he finally released you, you cupped his cheek in your hand and smiled at him.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you whispered.

“Please be careful,” he murmured.

“You know I will be,” you reassured him. “Don’t stay awake all night worrying about me.”

“I’ll try,” he laughed. “No promises.”

You kissed him again, then you climbed into the SUV, Bucky’s arm sliding around your waist. You waved at Steve as the car pulled away from the curb.

Thirty minutes later, you were safely in your apartment with all three locks on the door thrown. You stood in the shower and let the hot water run over you until it started to run cool. Only then did you shut off the water, dry off, and put on your pajamas. You sighed as you slipped into your own bed and pulled the blanket up to your chin. To your surprise, you fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

“You look amazing, doll,” Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you whispered. “And you look very handsome.”

“Where’s Buck?” Steve asked, looking over your shoulder.

“He’s doing press,” you said, pointing over your shoulder. “One of the museum reps grabbed him and insisted he talk to the press. He’s not happy about it.”

“I’m sure he’s not,” Steve chuckled. “He hates doing press at things like this. Come here, we’ll wait over here for him.” He pulled you to one side, behind one of the pillars. 

From your vantage point, you could see Bucky reluctantly talking to several members of the press, half a smile on his face. You could tell he was annoyed, it was all in his body language - the stiffness in his shoulders, the tilt of his head, the tightness around his mouth, the way the smile didn’t reach his eyes. He’d told you on several occasions that these press lines drove him crazy, he hated getting the same question over and over, and he hated the ridiculous questions they asked. He’d tolerate for a few more minutes and then he’d make himself scarce.

Sure enough, less than five minutes later Bucky joined you and Steve. You walked between the two men, excited for the evening ahead. You loved the Metropolitan Museum of Art and seeing it like this was an amazing experience. You’d only ever experienced it as one of the everyday patrons, never with the V.I.P. treatment being with Steve and Bucky was granting you. You fell into line behind a group of people entering the building.

“Well, if it isn’t Wonder Boy and his buddy, the author,” you heard someone snarl. The sound of the man’s voice made your skin crawl and goosebumps break out all over your arms and bare back.

“Rumlow,” Steve sighed. “What are you doing here?”

“Working security. Since I left the force -”

“You mean since you got kicked off the force,” Steve interrupted, a not-so-friendly smile on his face.

“Who’s your girlfriend?” the guy asked. “Or is she James’s girl? Does it really matter? Yours or his? Don’t you two share everything?”

Steve took a step closer to the guy he’d called Rumlow and lowered his voice. “Not now, Rumlow,” he growled.

Rumlow took a step back, an angry scowl on his face. Steve took your hand and Bucky put a hand in the center of your back, the two of them walking you inside, Steve occasionally glancing over his shoulder.

“Who was that?” you asked.

“His name’s Brock Rumlow,” Bucky explained. “He’s a former cop. Got kicked off the force after one too many complaints from citizens and co-workers. He hates Steve.”

“That’s an understatement,” Steve grumbled.

“And since I’m Steve’s best friend,” Bucky continued, “he doesn’t like me either.”

“Sounds like a real jerk,” you mumbled, looping your arm through Steve’s and kissing his cheek, hoping to make him feel better.

“He is,” Steve sighed. “The worst.”

“Don’t let him bother you,” Bucky said. “You know he’s just trying to get a rise out of you.”

“Yeah, I know,” Steve said. He scrubbed a hand over his face and straightened his shoulders. “Come on, let’s have some fun.”

That was exactly what you did. Dinner was amazing, though you hadn’t expected anything less. After dinner, the three of you checked out the newest, and then you spent some time meandering through the rest of the museum, enjoying the opportunity to experience it in such a unique way. By the time you’d gone through the entire museum, it was nearly midnight.

You excused yourself near the front entrance to use the restroom, stepping in for just a few minutes to freshen up. Bucky stepped outside to call Wade to bring the car around while Steve waited for you.

You weren’t in the bathroom very long, just a few minutes, but when you came out, Steve was nowhere to be found and the lobby area was deserted. You pulled your wrap tighter around your shoulders and headed for the exit, keeping an eye out for Steve as you walked.

“So, what are you? The girlfriend?”

You stopped in your tracks and turned toward the snarling voice. That guy, Brock something-or-other stood about ten feet away from you, an evil smirk on his face. It made your skin crawl.

“I-I’m sorry?” you mumbled.

“You were with Wonder Boy and his friend, the author,” Brock muttered, taking a single step closer. “I figured you must be their new toy.”

“I’m...uh, I’m...J-James’s assistant,” you stammered.

“Sure you are,” he scoffed, moving another step closer. “Barnes brings all of his assistants to expensive fundraisers. I’m not surprised he brought Steve, they’re stuck together like glue, but you, well, you’re new.”

You glanced over your shoulder, hoping to see either Steve or Bucky coming to your rescue. But they were nowhere to be seen.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart? Do I make you nervous?”

“Yes, actually, you do,” you retorted. “If you’ll excuse me -”

Brock was apparently closer than you’d thought because the next thing you knew, he had a hold of your upper arm and he was squeezing it, hard enough to hurt. You gasped and tried to pull away, but Brock wouldn’t let go.

“Tell your boyfriend that I haven’t forgotten what he did,” Brock growled. He shot a glance over your shoulder, released you, turned around, and hurried away.

“Y/N, are you okay?” Steve said, his arm sliding around your waist.

You nodded, but you inched closer to Steve, allowing him to pull you into the protective circle of his arms.

“What is that guy’s problem?” you murmured.

“I told you, he hates me,” Steve said.

“He said he won’t forget what you did,” you said. “What the hell does that mean?”

“I pushed for him to be removed from the force,” Steve said, leading you toward the door. “After he cold-cocked me in front of the captain, it finally happened. He thinks I egged him on hoping to get him fired.”

“Did you?”

“Maybe a little,” Steve shrugged. “But he was a lousy cop. He was always on some kind of power trip. That made him dangerous. He should have been removed from the force and him punching me probably just sped up the process.”

Steve pushed open the museum door, caught sight of Bucky, and hurried down the steps to the waiting vehicle. He ushered you inside without another word, Wade slammed the door, and a few seconds later, you were pulling into traffic and heading for your apartment.

* * *

He watched as the SUV pulled into traffic. Things had taken a turn he hadn’t expected, which meant that he was going to have to reevaluate his plans, make some changes. Oddly enough, that thought didn’t bother him, in fact, it excited him. This could work to his advantage, in fact, it had the potential to be better than he had ever anticipated. And it would tear Wonder Boy apart, rip him to shreds. Him and the author both.

They wouldn’t know what hit them.


End file.
